Author's Notes: I believe this is the least snarky of the snarky chapter titles.... I must have been mellow that day.

IV: Baby Steps

Rodney's fever broke early the next evening, and he woke up irritable and verbose and incredibly hungry. In other words, he was pretty much back to normal. When Carson went to clean and re-wrap his ankle, they had a big surprise – there wasn't a mark on his pale skin.

"Oh, man – just like a cheesy horror movie on Sciffy," Rodney said, his voice only slightly cracking.

"John mentioned that may happen," Carson said as he threw the old dressing away. "He and Teyla never left your side during the last thirty hours – your fever even topped one-oh-six briefly. Scared the ever lovin' crap out of all of us." Then he frowned briefly. "By the way, who's Sheila?"

Rodney froze in the process of hunting for the bed controls and squinted cautiously at Carson. "Um, why do you ask?"

Carson grinned and found the controls – they were dangling from the railing. He pressed them into Rodney's hand. "Oh, just wondering. Every time we stuck the thermometer in your ear, you'd say something about her. Actually, no – you'd either giggle or protest. Loudly."

"Oh." Rodney turned beet red as he adjusted the bed. "Um, she was a girlfriend I had in grad school." His hand came up and flapped briefly by his head. "She had this, this thing about sticking her tongue in my ear when I least expected it. Drove me nuts."

Carson nodded. "Well, it happened so many times, Jenn did this." He held up the thermometer, and on the side was a label that said 'Sheila'. "So, Rodney, meet your ex – she needs to take your temp again." He waggled the thing back and forth.

Rodney grumbled as it was stuck in his ear. "At least it isn't wet and warm. Gah, I hated that."

Carson chuckled, but frowned slightly as he looked at the display. "Hmm. Still at one hundred." He set Sheila down and started checking the glands in Rodney's neck. "Well, everything feels normal – I'll check yae again in an hour. Now, let's get some dinner sent over."

"Oh, God – yes! I'm starving."

He was just finishing devouring two full dinners when John stopped by before turning in for the night. "Hey…." He took in the empty plates and blinked. "Huh, and here I was sure you weren't bitten by a wereshark."

Rodney swallowed wrong and started coughing. By the time he could speak again he was bright red and his eyes were streaming. "There really are such things?" he finally gasped.

"Naw," John replied. He eyed the crumb covered tray and grimaced faintly. "Good to see your, ah, appetite is back." He crossed his arms and smiled faintly down at Rodney. "So, how you feeling, besides ravenous?"

Rodney took a moment to drink some water. "Well, I certainly feel better than you look." He took in the circles under Sheppard's eyes, and his slightly more than usual rumpled condition. "You, ah, didn't have to, um, you know." He shrugged.

John shrugged in reply like it was nothing.

Then a horrible thought went through Rodney's mind, no doubt a flashback to those movies he'd watched with Jeannie and fueled by Pavle's cryptic comments. "Unless there was a reason why you, um …." The phlegmy grate to his voice from the earlier coughing fit kept the panicked squeak from being too loud as he pictured himself going on a berserk rampage through the infirmary, crazy from fever and babbling about Sheila of the eager tongue, and Sheppard hunting him down and snapping his neck.

John picked up on the panic and his eyes got a little wider. He held up his hands. "Oh, no. No. Don't worry – Teyla and I just stuck around because, well, we know about these things. Wanted to be close in case the docs needed any help."

"Oh." Rodney stared at the one thing left on his tray, a piece of chocolate cake, and his eyebrows drew down. "You would know about this stuff." He cleared his throat and looked back up. "So – what happens next?"

John rubbed his neck. "Little things, from what I understand."

"From what you understand?" Rodney's voice rose a bit.

"Hey, born this way, remember? I've taken this shit for granted for as long as I can remember." John actually seemed a bit pissed.

Rodney flinched a little. "Sorry, sorry. If I sit and think about this too much, I get more than just a little freaked."

"Understandable." John took in a deep breath. "I wouldn't be surprised if your senses change first – smell, sight, touch, taste. The basics."

"Oh, great – Zelenka smells bad enough the day after his sister sends him all the Czech home goodies for his birthday."

John clamped down on his lips briefly. "They'll get more pronounced the closer we get to the full moon."

Then John's expression did a complete turn-around. It was subtle, but Rodney had in this short time come to learn that the guy had more expressive eyebrows than a German shepherd. That little raise in the center was brief, but he knew the man was worried. How he was such a killer poker player was beyond him when half the time the guy was as bad a liar as he was about some things…. And Rodney was very observant when he wasn't distracted. Rodney opened his mouth to ask when Carson came back with Sheila.

Carson did a double take at the empty tray. "Holy crap!" He bent over a little to peer under the bed.

"Uh, Carson? What are you doing?" Rodney asked.

"Checking for Ronon," Carson muttered. Then he fixed John with a stern frown. "Did yae help him?" John raised his hands and shook his head. "Well, I had Doris load enough on there to choke Ronon. Rodney, I can't decide if I'm impressed or frightened." He started to push the small table out of the way but Rodney reached out, snagged the piece of cake, and held it protectively against his chest. "Let's check that temp again." He frowned at the results. "I don't understand. You shouldn't be running a low grade fever – the last batch of blood work came back fine."

"Uh, doc?" John said. Both men looked at him. "Might I suggest you, ah, Google the body temp of a bear?" When they continued to just stare at him, he stuck his hands in his pockets. "Remember, my body temp is a bit higher."

"It would have … changed that quickly?" Carson asked. John nodded. "Huh, I'll be buggered." He tucked the thermometer back into his coat pocket. "Well, Rodney, I'm thinking just one more night for observation and you can go back to your quarters. But I'm not releasing you for work for a few more days yet." Rodney started to protest but Carson held up a finger. "Give it until Thursday, since I have no bloidy clue what to expect with this. And if you're still eating and sleeping fine, I'll consider turning you lose to terrorize your poor staff." Then he raised an eyebrow at John. "So, what am I tae expect?"

John sighed. "For awhile, not much." Then he stifled a yawn. "How about we sit down in a few days, maybe grab Teyla, and I can go over stuff without repeating myself constantly?"

"All right, sounds fair," Carson said. Rodney only nodded in agreement since his mouth was full.

-oOo-

Two days later, shortly after breakfast, Carson had a very full office. Rodney sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk, his shoulders hunched and his hands clasped between his knees, for all intents and purposes looking like an eight-year-old sitting in the principal's office. Teyla sat next to him, one hand resting lightly on his arm, a calm reassuring smile lighting her face. John stood next to her, arms crossed. He was trying to appear as calm as Teyla, but his lips were drawn in faintly in concern. Carson sat at his desk, Keller standing behind him, her hands setting on the back of Carson's chair. Carson's expression was unreadable at the moment, but hers was more curious than concerned. Elizabeth and Caldwell stood side by side, a yin and yang of reaction to the strange conversation from a moment before. She was worried, frowning in obvious concern. He looked ready to start pummeling something.

It seemed like overkill, but they were all there at Rodney's request. He wanted them to know just what exactly was going to happen to the Project's head scientist, and to make plans accordingly should worst come to worst.

Though John was the vargyr, it was Teyla who provided the most insightful information as to what would happen to Rodney. In her century and a half of life, she'd been around many cursed changelings and actually knew more about them than John did. His clan was less tolerable about the cursed and their by-blows than most, and usually just killed them outright, no questions asked, no quarter given. One of many reasons why he welcomed his exile.

Now that she had finally finished speaking, everyone was watching Rodney and waiting for his reaction. For once the perpetual buzz of nervous energy that clung to him like Pigpen's dust cloud was subdued as he stared at the floor and thought. When the silence stretched into a minute people began to shift nervously. Then he opened his mouth to speak, and everyone held their breath. "So, let me get this straight," he said after a few seconds, his voice surprisingly calm. "Surviving the initial 'infection' is only the first step. My base body temperature has already changed, and any other changes will primarily be sensory." He looked at Teyla and she nodded. "Then, in two weeks, I will physically change at moonrise – regardless if the skies are clear or not – and if I can actually survive the trauma of that, I'm home free."

"Yes," Teyla replied and smiled very calmly at him.

Rodney actually attempted a smile back – it was more of a spastic twitch at best – and went, "Huh."

John smiled faintly, too. "I have to say – you seem to be taking this pretty well," he drawled out. He could feel the anxiety rolling off the man right now, and he was absolutely amazed at his control. He was certain Rodney would be flailing around and yelling his head off right about now. And Carson would be readying a sedative.

Rodney's head wobbled. His expression was still fairly subdued, but his eyes were very bright. "Oh, trust me – on the inside right now, I'm making Sam Kinison look like Jeff Spicoli." His hand came up and fluttered by his head, and they could all see it shaking. "My brain is caught in this, this endless loop of flipping between the complete and total impossibility of the whole situation on a scientific level, and the ending of every cheesy werewolf movie I ever watched through my fingers as a kid. So, taking it well?" He let out strangled laugh as his only comment, and several people flinched. "And to top it all off, now I get the added bonus of being deathly allergic to citrus and silver. Good thing the cafeteria uses stainless steel." He'd already made sure of that little fact. "If I ever get the Nobel Prize, I'll have to use a plastic spork at the dinner. That should go well with the tux and the Waterford crystal." He noticed how bad his hand was shaking and trapped it between his knees again.

A few people chuckled nervously at the image that formed, but Caldwell killed the levity by clearing his throat. "What are the chances of Dr. McKay going on a rampage when he changes?" That earned him several irate scowls. "What? It's a legitimate question. I seem to recall a report of a werewolf escaping, and that turned out rather bad."

"He's right," Rodney said. Now he focused on John and Teyla, his raw fear evident to everyone present.

Teyla looked up at John, clearly deferring any decisions to him. "I'll be with you," he said without hesitation. "Don't worry about it – I doubt there's anything you could do that I couldn't handle."

"I still want some men present with tranq guns," Caldwell said.

"There will be no bloidy tranquilizer guns!" Carson snapped. Everyone looked at him, and he ran his hands down his face. "It will still be Rodney, not some … animal." His eyes fixed on John's. "Am I right?"

John's smile was tight as he nodded. Then he looked down at Rodney. "No tranqs." He heard Caldwell grunt.

Rodney visibly slumped in relief.

Teyla put a hand on his arm. "The reason the cursed vargyrs are so … wild is because they let the animal have too much control and they lose themselves. You are a brilliant man, Dr. McKay – I have no doubt in my mind that you will remain focused and in complete control."

At the brilliant comment the corner of Rodney's mouth crooked up into his first halfway honest smile. "You … you really think so?"

Teyla gave him one of her serene smiles and nodded, and his grin became more pronounced. "I know so here." And like Pavle several days ago, she held a hand over her heart.

You sure about that? John sent.

I'd be willing to wager a bottle of Sidhe wine on it.

John's eyebrows twitched. "I'd trust her feeling on this one, buddy," he said quietly to Rodney.

Elizabeth, who had been very quiet, cleared her throat softly. All eyes focused on her, but her attention was solely on John. "When the … change occurs, does it affect the mind in any way at all?" He shook his head. "So we will still have the same Rodney, just not … physically." Now she looked at Rodney, and the corner of her mouth rose the tiniest bit. "Rodney the Werebear. Why am I finding that … darkly ironic?"

"Oh, thank God," Keller said in one quick burst, her eyes rolling and her hands rising off the back of Carson's chair. "I am so glad somebody else is thinking that."

Rodney's mouth dropped open. "Hey!"

Keller shrugged. "Do you know how many times I've heard people call you a bear, Rodney? A lot, sometimes on a daily basis, even."

Carson had to cover his mouth, but his dimples were showing. "Aye, me, too."

"Oh, now don't you be encouraging her," Rodney shot back.

John could feel the tension level in the office drop by half, and he glanced down at Teyla. Her eyes were crinkled in amusement. When he glanced around, the only one who wasn't amused was Caldwell.

Carson sighed heavily, the faint smile never leaving his features. "Irony aside, we will be here for you, Rodney. You will make it through this."

Rodney looked around at all the concerned and warm faces – hell, even Caldwell had lost a good portion of his perpetually perturbed frown – and swallowed. Sheppard even reached past Teyla and gave his shoulder a light tap just as she squeezed his arm. This show of support had him momentarily speechless. Then something struck him out of the blue. He leaned a little closer to Teyla and Sheppard and mumbled, "Uh, is this going to do anything about …." He pointed as surreptitiously as possible at his hairline.

"I am afraid not," she said quietly, but in the small office everyone heard. And either snickered or groaned. "Though it may halt its advance."

Rodney's head bobbled. "Okay, I can live with that." Then he looked at everyone and the angry grimace was back in place. "Hey, now that really was a legitimate question!" He stood up and straightened his jacket. "Are we done here? I have work to do. Lots of work – God knows what's happened since I've been out of the loop for almost two weeks. They've probably resorted to stone tablets and chisels in engineering by now."

"Aye, we're done," Carson replied. "But I do want you to check in with me at the end of the day." When Rodney started to open his mouth to protest Carson raised a finger. "Just stop by, that's all I'm asking. No tests, no blood, no Sheila. Just say hello. Understood?" The unvoiced let me know you're all right was loud and clear.

"Oh, okay." Then with a defiant jut to his jaw, Rodney left.

Carson waited a moment, then looked at John and Teyla. "If he doesn't stop by, would one of you check on him?"

"Gladly," Teyla replied, and John nodded.

"I'm still not too sure about him running around without supervision," Caldwell said a moment later.

Elizabeth fixed him with a flinty stare. "Colonel, he hasn't turned into a bear yet. Returning to full duty is going to be the best thing for him right now – he's going to be too busy to think of anything but work."

Carson nodded in agreement. "She does have a valid point. And right now, knowing Rodney, distraction really is going to be the best medicine."

Caldwell sighed, but he finally nodded in agreement. "All right. I expect to be kept updated of any changes."

"Both of us," Elizabeth added.

"Of course." Teyla stood then, and people began filing out, but Carson called out to John to wait up a moment. He held back while everyone else left. "Don't forget your appointment this afternoon." John grimaced. "Yae forgot, didn't you?"

"Yeah," John replied guiltily.

"We can postpone…."

"No, no, I'll be there."

Carson raised an eyebrow. "You sure you still want to do this? You don't have to, you know."

John rubbed the back of his neck. "I know, but you've gotten my curiosity piqued. See you at two." He waved at Carson and left and wasn't surprised to find Teyla waiting for him.

Is there something I should be concerned about? she asked, eyebrow raised, as she fell into step next to him.

Ever since last October, while he was recovering from his injuries, she had taken it upon herself to be his personal bodyguard, as if he was still a prince in some royal house. John sighed and shook his head. No. The doc has been studying my DNA and proposed running some baseline tests to see what I can do in human form, and in my true form. He shrugged. He asked me so nice, I had to. Plus … I'm kind of curious. She frowned, and he felt anger roll off of her. He blinked, then his own anger boiled up. I'm not being a lab rat, Teyla.

Yes, you are. This is beneath you.

John drew his lips in as he practically stomped through the infirmary. Haven't you ever been curious about what makes us different than just plain humans?

No.

Well, I have. And the fact that we can all interbreed with each other makes me believe the differences aren't as great as some of the Pretenders think they are. He felt Teyla completely clamp down on her emotions. Yeah, there's the elitist Fae for you, he thought very guardedly. The doc feels the same way, and after all he did to help me, I'd like to return the favor. So what if I fill a few cups and vials, take some tests, run on a treadmill – if I can help our two races understand each other a little better, then I will. And now, if it can help McKay….

You are making a mistake, John.

It's all confidential. No one is going to know.

I wouldn't count on that. Teyla shook her head, and John stopped. He raised an eyebrow at her, but she just shook her head again and left the infirmary.

Keller had been watching them, and she walked up to John. "Everything okay?" She watched him closely and could see he was frustrated.

John sighed. "Yeah, she's just being a … paranoid Sidhe."

"Ah." Keller glanced the way Teyla went. She had learned only a short time ago that they could communicate to each other, well, telepathically. She thought it was both cool and creepy at the same time. She showed him her dimples. "Don't forget your running gear for this afternoon. Oh, and bring shorts, not sweats."

"Um, why?"

"For the wires on your legs – we're going to study muscle function and efficiency, remember?" He nodded. "Okay, see ya later." As he walked off she grinned ever wider. Yup, seeing him in nothing but shorts and running shoes later was going to make her afternoon so worthwhile. Some days, she really really liked her job. She went back to her office, and her dimples were still present when Ronon came to get her for lunch. When he asked her what she was grinning about, she didn't say a word.

End Note: Yes, how ironic. Huh, wonder if he'll be the only werebear with male pattern baldness?